


Rain in the Flower Garden

by AudreyTrevors



Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Cabbage Patch Hobbits, M/M, Misunderstandings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-25
Updated: 2019-02-25
Packaged: 2019-11-05 05:46:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 986
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17912912
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AudreyTrevors/pseuds/AudreyTrevors
Summary: After a long journey, Thorin Oakenshield finds an unexpected surprise waiting for him in the Shire.





	Rain in the Flower Garden

**Author's Note:**

> This was written for the Big Short Challenge hosted on Rough Trade. The prompt was "Wet."

Thorin Oakenshield, King Under the Mountain, settled down onto the bench that he didn’t quite remember. He leaned his head back, soaking up the sun at the end of his long journey. Despite his long, dusty travels, he wasn’t quite ready to knock on the round, green door marking his destination. Instead, he pulled out his pipe and settled down farther into his seat, preparing it with the Longbottom Leaf that Bilbo swore was the best thing he’d ever taste. There wasn’t much to argue with there. As he blew the first smoke ring he found his attention drawn to a single blue flower bush in the center of the garden. He stood up and walked over to it. After a moment’s study, he knelt down and reached towards the bright green leaves.

“I’m going to ask you to step away from the flower,” a dry voice said behind him, weariness coating each word. Thorin stepped back and turned towards the voice that reached into his very being and spoke to his soul.

“Bilbo.”

“Thorin,” the small hobbit gasped, leaning against the door the dwarf hadn’t heard open.

“I woke up and you were gone.” He let his eyes drift across the face he knew better than his own. The face he’d seen in every dream he’d had since falling on the battle field. The face he’d hoped to see when he awoke, only to be bitterly disappointed.

“You were dead.”

“As you can see, I’m truly not dead.”

“Yes…” Bilbo took a shaky step towards him, hand reaching out. “I don’t understand.”

“The mountain takes care of its own, and it healed me,” Thorin gripped Bilbo’s hand, squeezing it reassuringly, letting him feel the pulse that pounded in his veins.

“That can’t be possible. You were dead,” Bilbo’s eyes darted to the plant behind him; the plant Thorin had almost touched.

“I was almost dead, as you can see, I’ve been healed.”

“It’s been a year.” Thorin took a step closer to him when he realized Bilbo’s eyes were glimmering with something more than a happy joy.

“I came as soon as I could,” Thorin said, moving his hands to Bilbo’s shoulder. At the shudder that ran through his hobbit he released him, but Bilbo reached out, clenching his fists in Thorin’s tunic. “I want you to come home.”

“Home?”

“Back to the mountain. To Erebor. To the company. To me.”

Bilbo pulled back and looked up at him, “I didn’t ask. If you’re alive, does that mean…Fíli and Kíli?”

“They’re both alive,” Thorin promised, “It takes more to kill a dwarf. Especially those two dwarves.”

“I couldn’t…when I heard. It was like a piece of me died,” Bilbo said softly. “I couldn’t stay there. Not with you gone.”

“I’m back now. And I want you to come home. We want you to come home.”

Bilbo pulled away fully and focused on his garden. Thorin studied his profile, trying to understand what was going through his mind.  
“I can’t.” Bilbo’s answer was soft, and came after quiet minutes had passed: Thorin afraid to break the silence.

“I don’t understand now,” Thorin told him slowly. All he had thought about while in his sickbed, while planning his escape from the mountain and his handlers, during the journey, was bringing Bilbo home. It hadn’t even crossed his mind that Bilbo would say no.

“I can’t go home with you,” Bilbo said, finally turning to look at him. “I have to stay here. I have things I have to look out for.” A smile crept up his face, a smile that made no sense at all to Thorin. 

“I don’t understand,” he repeated, “What could be more important than coming home? You want to come home, don’t you?”

“Of course I do,” Bilbo reassured him, “I just can’t now. In a few months, yes, but I can’t right now.”

“What could possibly be keeping you?” Thorin growled. He clenched his jaw and turned away from Bilbo, not wanting the hobbit to see the hurt his words had caused.

“Oh, Thorin,” Bilbo sighed, grabbing his hand. He pulled on it until Thorin turned towards him. “I promise, only the most important thing could keep me from you and our home.”

“And what is that?” Thorin asked harshly, “What is keeping you?”

Bilbo smiled softly, obviously ignoring his tone. “Why don’t you come see?”

He led Thorin back into the garden, towards the plant Thorin had felt drawn to. He knelt down close to it, but not touching, and tugged on Thorin’s hand until he also knelt.

“Thorin, when I thought you were gone, I couldn’t bear it. I had to leave,” Bilbo’s voice caught and he cleared his throat. “I came home, and you were still gone. I thought it would be better here, but it wasn’t. I was alone, and so I worked to fix that.” He gestured towards the flower, “I planted a seed.”

“And that was supposed to help?”

Bilbo shrugged, “Perhaps it would have been better to say I planted our seed. I took an acorn from Beorn’s home and planted it. A seed took root, and it will bear fruit in almost three months.”

“I don’t understand,” Thorin felt like a dwarfing who knew only one phrase, “this isn’t an oak tree.”

Bilbo laughed in delight, “That’s how we know it worked. If it was an oak sprout, there wouldn’t be a baby!”

Thorin felt his world shake to its core and leaned back on his heels, “A baby?”

“Our baby.” Bilbo’s smile could have lit the entire mountain.

“We’re having a baby?” Thorin’s voice caught in his throat, and he couldn’t say anything else, just reached for Bilbo’s hand. 

“Yes, Thorin. We’re having a baby.” Thorin felt his cheeks grow wet, and water began soaking his beard. As Bilbo leaned towards him, he wondered briefly when it had started to rain.


End file.
